In recent years, Dietrich Bonhoeffer has become one of the few religious figures claimed by people across the doctrinal spectrum. To be honest, I don’t really know where he fits on that landscape, and I’m not going to try to sort it out here.
But while I can’t endorse him and his beliefs across the board, I can say the man had some powerful insights—perhaps none more piercing than those found in his brief book on church community, Life Together (Amazon).
One quote in particular stands out as I write, speak, and podcast on the topic of “resetting” the church.
Writing on the matter of our hopes and wishes for what the church can be, he said,
Every human wish-dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive. He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter, even though his personal intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and sacrificial. God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by God, by others and by himself. He enters the community of Christians with his demands, sets up his own law, and judges the brethren and God himself accordingly.
We cannot love our dream of what church can be more than we love the actual church people in front of us. The people are not the means to an end. They are very much a part of the intended end.
And, we have to realize that, though our goals may be noble, it doesn’t mean all is lost if we don’t get them. I think we’ve all had enough experiences in life to tell us that having everything done the way we think it should go would create a lot of problems—including for ourselves.
Growth and change will always be gradual, and we’re never going to make everybody live up to the vision we think the Bible would have us pursue. Honestly, when somebody does get everybody else to live up to their personal vision, it’s usually in the form of a cult.
If our desire for a greater church life makes us pull away from the church life we have, or constantly grumble about how things aren’t good enough, or desire to pull away from everybody and do our own thing, then we’ve missed the point.
Why don’t they want to spend more time together? Why are they so insistent on feasting on the milk of the Word without ever graduating to the meat, or without ever getting specific on the pressing topics of our day? Why do the leaders allow people to do whatever they want? Why are we so content to perpetuate consumer Christianity?
These are the kinds of questions that arise when an effort to change starts to spin its tires.
I believe this is why “endure hardship” was part of Paul’s counsel to Timothy (2 Timothy 4:5). Taking our ball and going home (literally, in the case of the home church movement) is not the answer. It is a delicate balance to critique without being critical, to try to “excel still more” without trashing what we already have, and so forth.
But if we pull away from everybody because they aren’t catching the vision, we’re not much different than the people who decide they have transcended the church and “come to God in their own way.”
There is a reason “tolerate” or “bear with” was among the “one another” commandments (Ephesians 4:2; Colossians 3:13). There’s also a reason that Timothy was told to do his in-season and out-of-season preaching “with great patience” (2 Timothy 4:2). We cannot expect a smooth, easy path toward something better.
In fact, we need to flip the perspective on this around 180º.
These challenges are not obstacles on our path to becoming the church we want to be. They are the path.
Figuring out how to get along with others through difficulties is a requirement for a close-knit church. Finding ways to get the Word open and talk about the kind of specifics that build a culture, even when it will be absorbed slowly, is part of the process. Aiding or even becoming part of the leadership to help them in bringing people together is another piece of the puzzle.
As we do this, that appeal to pull away and feel justified in our Elijah-like loneliness—”I alone, oh Lord”—will grow stronger from time to time. That’s when we know it’s time to double down, invite somebody over, go serve somebody, pray for them (and ourselves) all the more.
I can’t guarantee this is a path to the kind of church we want to see. But I know it’s part of it. And it’s most certainly a path to becoming the kind of people God wants us to become.
Don’t get tripped up by the wish-dream. Love the people around you, and love the process of building up the kingdom alongside them.
Notes
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Well said
I needed this. Thank you.